Secrets Unmasked
by Goldenbrook15
Summary: Some secrets are just too big to be kept hidden forever. The legend of Alex Rider is one of them. Written for "Spyfest 2015".


**Secrets Unmasked**

Summary: _Some secrets are just too big to be kept hidden forever. The legend of Alex Rider is one of them. Written for "Spyfest 2015"._

 **0~o~0**

Sometimes, no matter how hard they tried, some secrets just can't be hidden for long.

For two years a boy had worked for spy agencies around the world, saving hundreds of people, without a single thank you. For two gruesome, horrifying years full of terror and nightmares the boy had been forced to do a job that had broken all others before him.

Even to the day that he died he never failed once.

Many assassins had tried to get rid of him. They all failed. Some had tried poisons, but he seemed to always know that something was wrong and was able to avoid it. Guns were useless too, for he had been trained by some of the best assassins. Criminals feared him, hearing whispers of the destruction he left in his wake though few were privileged with his real name. He was like a shadow, untouchable and unstoppable. Anything in his path fell before him, not knowing what had him them.

In the end, it wasn't his enemies that got him.

They found his body in the home that he lived in, blood dried on his chest from a stab wound, bloody knife hanging limply from his pail fingers. His school had called in when he had not shown up for a week. They were used to him being gone, but his absence usually preceded a note explaining why and what sickness he had contracted this time.

This time there hadn't been a note.

The room was clean and impersonal, few possessions that pointed toward a teenager living there. It was almost _too_ clean. On his desk the only thing out of place was a stack of letters addressed to several different people, each saying the same thing.

 _I'm sorry._

 _Sorry I wasn't strong enough._

 _Sorry I couldn't hold on._

 _Sorry I'm not good enough._

Only one of those letters was slightly different.

 _To: The Royal And General Bank_

 _Blunt,_

 _I'm tired and done with you and your organization. Get someone else to fix your problems next time. The world can save itself for all I care._

 _You can't use me where I'm going,_

 _Alex Rider_

The boy, no older than sixteen but still to old for the world, was gone. He had broken and there had been no one to put him back together again. Seeing no escape from the binds that held him he had decided to cut them.

Alex Rider was dead by his own hand.

0~o~0

The open grave yawned, too deep and too dark to see the bottom. Rain splattered the grass, reflecting the mood of the many people there. Clouds rumbled over head, shedding a grey hue across the already bleak sky.

Closed against the light sprinkle of rain and ready to be lowered into the ground, the dark casket beckoned ominously to all those there. Under the lid was someone they had once thought they had known. How had they never seen the signs? How could they not have stopped what happened?

Students and teachers from his school lowered their heads in sadness and guilt. Where they the ones who caused this? Had they alienated him to the point that he felt he could no longer talk to anyone, that he could not come to them for help?

Another group, split off from the rest, stood with blank faces and straight backs. To them Alex Rider had been more than just another person, he had been one of the greatest spies to ever live. His death was a blow they had not been prepared for so soon.

When it came time to speak, the man in the front of the group strode forward and looked down at the grave with a solemn face.

"Few know what Alex went through, what he sacrificed. Fewer still will ever realize who he truly was under all of his masks. He was strong for the world, but he never got a thank you from it.

"Alex Rider served his country to the best of his abilities, and his passing is that of a hero. May he find rest and freedom from a world that held him in chains."

Far back from both of the groups a single figure watched with a red rose clutched in his hand and a hat pulled low over his face. His long black coat was soaked with water but he didn't seem bothered. He dipped his head low at the end of the other man's small speech.

"In that you are right, Blunt," he said softly, unnoticed in the rain, "I am free from my chains, but I am not free from the world, not yet."

His sad brown eyes drifted down to the gravestone that stood at his feet and he knelt down on one knee, hand trembling as it rested on the cold stone, "I'm sorry Jack," he breathed as a tear ran down his cheek "I'm sorry I couldn't save you in time. I'm sorry I didn't have to strength to get away," his eyes softened further as he closed them and placed the rose on the grave, "I'm sorry I had to do this, but it's what you would have wanted. You always wanted me to be free."

Brown eyes flicked up to the other people mourning as he stood, making sure his hat was secure. He felt remorse for what he was leaving behind, but he also knew that it was the only way. Turning his back on the mourners and the open grave, he walked away unnoticed.

Alex Rider was dead.

Alexander Mort was ready to face his future, wherever it might lead.

0~o~0

 _Twenty years later . . ._

A file, old and dusty, rested unobtrusively on a pile of other papers meant to be disposed of. The over was blank and there were no labels on the outside.

Maybe it was fate that made one of the curious workers to notice _that_ file, out of all the others. Maybe it was fate that caused them to read in.

Maybe it was fate that a secret so desperately hidden was uncovered for the world to see the horrors of what had been kept hidden from them.

Maybe it was fate that one Alex Rider, dead for over twenty years, was recognized as the true hero he was.

What ever it was, fate, destiny, or revenge, the worlds greatest secret became known throughout the world. Finally, after all these years, they realized what one boy had done for them, and how little they had done for him.

Walking down a busy street a blond haired, brown eyed man picked up the daily paper and choked on the piece of bread he was eating. The man standing next to him patted his back sympathetically as he saw the headline.

 ** _World's best kept secret: Alex Rider_**

"Hard to believe, right?" The man said, "It's horrible what the government made that poor boy go through what he did. It's sad to see just how far we have fallen to blackmail a kid to do our dirty work," he sighed.

"Yah," the blond choked out, still staring at the headline, "It . . . is hard to believe."

The other nodded, "There is proof, though, lots of it. They didn't do as good of a cover-up as they should have, and now we know," the man paused, "I wish I could have thanked him."

The blond rubbed his throat, "Who?"

"Alex Rider of course. I bet the whole world would thank him about right now, if he were alive."

"Yah," the blond said bowing his head slightly to keep those around him from seeing the surprise in his brown eyes, "He probably would have been just as shocked as everyone else."

Nodding, the other held out his hand, "My name is Richard Smith."

After a moment of hesitation the blond shook the hand, "Alexander Mort."

Richard chuckled slightly, "Nice to meet you Alexander."

"Call me Alex," he dipped his head, "and it's nice to meet you too, Richard."

Some secrets are exposed to the world for everyone to know.

And then there are some that are better left buried.

Arriving home Alex clipped the article from the paper and pinned it to a hidden board whose only other occupant was a small, slightly fuzzy picture of three figures. One was a young boy in scuba gear, another of a man who could have been his father. The last was a young woman with deep red hair and a bright smile. These were the only the things that remained from his past, from the past of Alex Rider.

It had been a long time since he had heard that name, but he should have known that they wouldn't be able to keep it from getting out. There were too many loose ends that had never been tied up, too much evidence of what had happened. The name itself made criminals shake in fear even after his death.

Some secrets are too big to remain hidden forever. The legend of Alex Rider was one of them.

Alexander Mort was just getting started on his own legend, that of a successful lawyer.

 **0~o~0**

 **Well, hope you all liked it.**

 **Please review, I'm starting to wonder how many people actually look at what I've written.**


End file.
